Helping the Hutts? You might as well have a big target on your back for all they did to kark up the galaxy. 'Reward' or not, she was pretty sure she could do a decent job slicing things herself and take the reward on her own. True, the IG droid was still deadly on its' own.
But if she could convince the other 'chosen', they could have a chance for themselves.
Grip tight, she glared down the droid through the visor of her helmet. She'd either go down in a hail of blaster fire from her comrades, or they could join up with her. She just had to choose her words wisely.
"Why were we chosen?"
The vocabulator buzzed in a flat tone. "I'm sure this one," she nodded to Newton, "could have sliced from any access port and bypassed the mainframe to the main computer at any terminal. This place is ancient. And considering your bosses..."
She lifted her blaster, glaring down the droid coldly. "I don't like them getting their grubby mitts on anything, much less something like those droids upstairs. I'd think we," she shrugged to both the shadowy one and the steel-skinned one, "could handle power like that better than your Clan. I'd prefer sharing the load with this lot than letting your bosses gain one iota of power back. Can't forget something like spreading the virus, after all," the bass tones snarled.
Hell, if they could access the mainframe themselves there could be a ready-made army to take down some of the zombies of those desperate planets themselves. Kark the Hutts, this close to the end of the line meant there had to be something more valuable than any elusive 'reward'.
"I recall we weren't given an exact reward, either." If the droid would try anything, she wouldn't hesitate to put a trio of blaster shots into its' metal skull or chassis. This was a risky gamble; either her companions would shoot her down themselves, or they would realize there was a more tangible reward by not cleaning up the Hutt mess that the Hutts left behind.
Vizim moved over into a position near the door to safeguard their entry point when he was satisfied that the room held no threats. The suited man started working on the controls when one of the others (@Killa Ree) began to speak up.
What she said made sense. Vizim had been so focused on staying alive that he hadn't had much time to stop and think about the exact situation they were in or the "allies" he had. Now that they were here, at the central computer, the real questions could be asked. And even if some of them were gunned down by the IG, the group now had leverage. What Vizim hadn't forgotten was that he had been kidnapped, which didn't earn any good will from him.
That's because our reward will be a blaster bolt in the back. Always has been, he said. They all knew it, right? Whoever the IG was working for wasn't likely to just let them all walk away with the secrets of how to override and shut down its army. Jobs like this were the jobs people never came back from.
He had weapons in hand, and knew he could bring his saber into position in time to protect himself if the IG attacked. But the IG was still in bad shape as well.
Suit, no bantha poodoo, can you slice the system or not? he asked (@The Good Doctor). If not, then perhaps they could use the IG's processor arms and interface system to do it. Vizim didn't know enough about that stuff to be sure.
A smirk pulled at the edge of Cyrene's lips underneath her mask at the words. Finally, someone had figured out how'd this would end, she worked with enough Hutt's to know how they operated, she knew when she woke up in this hell hole how it would end without doing something.
In a single swift movement, she turned with her rifle to face the IG unit and without hesitation fired at the droid's head, they didn't need it anymore and now it was a threat, it was better to be safe than sorry.
Once the IG unit hit floor, she would let out a sigh "been wanting to do that since I met it"
Cas had stood at the ready to face whatever was on the other side of that door. All the while, she had been ready to face what was her side of that door. She had been abducted, plugged into a room with a bunch of faces she had never seen before save one and that one, that other Mandalorian, was not exactly her friend.
The moment she had awoken to a voice that spoke in Huttese, then to a figure of an IG unit, all amid the figures surrounding her who appeared to share her dilemma, well, trust was not at the top of Casany’s pursuits. She had instead made it a point and purpose to question that IG droid at some point. Someone else had beaten her to it.
“Why were we chosen?” The question rang out between Cas’ ears and froze her form if it were capable of standing any more still. It was a question that would freeze Igor all the same, especially since it had been delivered with the silent warning of a blaster trained his way.
So Cas followed suit. The Mandalorian held her sword one way and her pistol the other, angling away from Blondie and Igor respectively; she trusted one less than the other and, truth be told, if bolts would fly then her own would go one way or the other.
Igor had plenty of time to respond to Blondie’s advances. Mask did not hesitate to chime in. Them or us. Us or them. Cas licked her lips. Who was ‘them’ and who was ‘us’? ‘They’ were the droids, whether Igor or the others, and the Hutts who had greased their fat upon both. ‘We’ were the wayward souls who had been dropped into this pit and were fighting to climb out of it. Them or us. Me or them.
So Cas turned front and center toward Igor and was ready to train sword and blaster upon him and it in a moment. Someone else beat her to that punch too. Catwoman just then plugged a bolt and then some toward Igor’s head. Hell would follow.
Cas switched her pistol from the shooter to the target, that one IG unit who might yet still be their ticket out of here all the same. Depending on whether Catwoman had struck true or not, Cas would react one way or the other.
An IG droid who took a bolt to the head and still stood, or dodged the bolt, either way it was a problem. One arm was less of a problem but, well, had Catwoman struck too soon? Sure, he was a threat, but was he still needed in order to stop end a greater threat?
When the lady spoke up, Newton remembered that the droid had no more leverage over them, it is missing an arm in addition to have previously discarded it's weapon that had no ammo. Newton also remembered too that he had been kidnapped and forced to walk this walk under duress via killer droid. While it may still be a threat with only one arm, it's threat is lessened. This treasure may be a ruse too, and it does work for the Hutts. Newton doesn't care if this rogue armory intelligence does exterminate the Hutts, they are parasite slugs that the galaxy would be better off without if he had to be honest. In addition Newton is not keen on taking orders from a machine only to be disposed of when he is deemed no longer useful to their plans.
Priority one for Newton is getting out of here, finding any assets of value while he is here is secondary. They were questioning things, but the Blackwell Manager didn't think she or the dark one were going to attack the droid just yet.
But of course that catwoman slaver shot first, before he could even answer the dark one's question to him. Things can only go downhill from here, as the irrational actor still seems to be spiteful over being insulted earlier.
It's too late to stop her, but Newton was well distanced from the droid still, and he already had a blaster in his hand. Depending on how this goes down, Newton might be able to salvage data from IG. If not, maybe he can improvise. He is prepared because even though things can happening really fast, he knows the worst possible outcome for this: The IG droid is armored, has wide-vision cones, and it has a self-destruct device that it activates whenever it feels cornered or otherwise about to be captured, and it will probably see the organics here as a threat collectively rather than just the hotheaded slaver individually. That's likely given the unit's previous distain for what it calls 'meatsacks'.
IG-0R stood for a moment, a neat, molten-edged hole in its cranial turret. There was a shower of sparks through the hole, and abruptly, the machine sagged bonelessly to the floor, its motivator and core system control circuits burned out of its electronic brain. Without extensive repair, IG-0R would not rise again.
As the group stood around deciding what to do next, however, they would become of heavy footsteps approaching, and the whine of abused servos. Something huge and mechanical plodded into view.
X3R, tall and battered, surveyed the tableau before him, cranial turret panning back and forth. The machine noted the fallen droid; evidently, the "organic dupes" were much smarter than whatever it was he had fought off had given them credit for.
He raised his hands in a placating gesture. It could not truly be said that the droid was unarmed, but he hoped this posture would indicate that he would not attack.
"You have already disposed of it. Good. He would have betrayed you all, I think."
His attention turned to the rest of the small group.
"I am X3R. You have defeated me once, and I have no desire to repeat the process. But things have come to my attention which tell me we - myself, General Z1MM and all of you - may have a common enemy we did not originally detect."
Vizim was less than thrilled when the cat-woman gunned the droid down. They had no answers and now potentially had no way of shutting down the system. Even if the droid was going to betray them, the woman was too trigger happy.
Mr. Suit (@The Good Doctor) didn't answer Vizim's question - likely too preoccupied with the droid threat - and before he could re-query, he heard a thumping from down the hall.
Start working, I'll cover you, he said to Mr. Suit (@The Good Doctor), shifting between the man and the hallway and by extension the droid coming out of the hall. He was about ready to open fire on the droid that had evidently survived the first wave of attacks, but it started talking.
Vizim's guard didn't lower, and he decided to let someone else do the talking if there would be any. He was ready to start going for the kill. This day had worn on him, and he didn't trust any of these droids. Or his partners for that matter.
The moment the cat-woman(@christhebetrayer) let out a shot, Leggy wheeled on her, fury evident through her entire body. "What the kark were you thinking?" snarled the vocabulator bass tones through her helmet. "We almost had answers. Do you even have a brain in there, or is it all fluff, Kit-Kat?"She didn't care that she was being offensive, but she was losing patience fast with the woman, and again she thought of just gunning her own herself and leaving her to rot in this place. Honestly, the woman couldn't even karking defend herself properly.
She was about to continue her diatribe, when the faint sounds of abused servos whined through. Forgetting the useless cat for now, she wheeled back around, pointing her blaster directly at the sound of the source.
Her eyes widened as she saw the war droid loom into view, its' hands up.
At the term of the 'common enemy', her eyes narrowed into slits, body tensed in preparation. She was on a hair-trigger, and wasn't in the mood to be yanked around if the droid tried to do anything funny, like try to turn them into charcoal again. "Tell me about this enemy," she ground out, "and this General Z1MM. We're running out of time, and I'm tired of the games." She was getting her karking reward one way or another, but like the shadowy one, she would move to protect the suited guy (@The Good Doctor) just in case X3R had any funny ideas.
Still, they had to find a way to override the system and perhaps yank control from the Hutts. Playing their little games for these fat slugs gave her a building headache and a deep need to blast holes into things.
Just like that, Igor dropped to a heap of useless metal. Damn… Was all Cas thought besides thinking about whether the IG unit really was their ticket out of here or not. Too late for that, though. If mistakes were made then they were made.
The Mandalorian’s weapons whipped round to receive yet another droid on the approach, with yet more spiel about how the other droid was merely a traitor because, yeah, right, why not, right? Why not have EVERY OTHER DROID be a traitor than the one before it?
Kriff my life... Cas rolled her eyes as she kept her pistol trained on X3R. He was less believable than his contemporary. Igor, X3R, Z1MM, Hutt—they were all just the alphanumeric liabilities of a mechanical hell that had since swallowed the souls of several organics. Why should one of the latter believe in one of the former?
The war droid was the same as before, Cas spotting the ruptured head-mounted flamethrower. This was the same droid to have attacked them time ago. Why give a moment’s trust to its words? Kriffing droids! Go kriff yourself!
Oh, had this day won over one Forcie? It had positively drained one Mandalorian and she doubted that her vod was willing to endure much more. The former listened to Blondie press X3R for answers beyond driving a bolt toward his head like Catwoman had done, so there was that.
“Igor—IG-0R—,” Cas clarified toward X3R while piggybacking off Blondie’s words. “Was identified as one Hutt’s loyal guard droid.” Fingers flex on blaster hilt. “So, as the leggy chick said, who the kark is Z1MM?” Yet Cas was ready to not buy whatever answer would come her way.
“Sounds to me like there are two parties at play here trying to outdo the other, and us poor organics are caught in between. Got no time to play tug-o’-war... So scramble your sensors to comprehend that these organics simply want a way out of here. And if you can’t, well…”
Cas shrugged. “...Tell us what you want. If it means getting out of here then we will give it to you.” Droids, the Mandalorian knew, could be so very indifferent to organic needs. Sure, the latter was tired of the games, but the former? They likely did not care about time. Did they care about fulfilling their programming?
The droid was struck and went down. And with that the droid was dead as dead can be as he saw sparks hissing from where the droid now has a scorched hole in it head, and smells like scorched metal.
"Slaver Schutta" Newton said of the cat woman, he said with a disdainful tone as he facepalmed. He said with a tranquil voice but his expression and attutitde were anything but. Hope of getting out of this huge metal labyrinth they call an armory is getting lower and lower. The droid knew how, he had the code on hand to disable the armory intelligence once and for all. And for what? For all because the droid (rightfully in hindsight) insulted her intelligence? Now all Newton can do is try salvaging it or improvising should he fail. The lady was speaking for all of them when she was chewing out the slaver. There was another droid coming this way, battered.
When the dark one assured him that he would cover him, Newton nodded and went to get to work. First thing is first, the power source still needs to be fixed. The IG droid, before it died grabbed a possible power source from one of the fallen droids. Since they are probably about as old as this console it should work. Newton grabbed the power supply, and he would go over to the console, his next step would be to open a panel and then replace the old drained power source with the new one.
If that works, Newton would proceed to the next step. IG did say before it died that a computer spike would be required should if it needed to use itself to power the console, so maybe it had one. Plus if Newton recalls the IG droids don't have scomplinks built-in on them. Newton would search IG's lifeless chassis for the computer spike. If that doesn't work he will have to have another approach. But he'd like to give a quick try at easy way before he does it the hard way
All the while, Newton would what was going on with the large droid that just came in. They have a common enemey? The Hutts? Whatever it is, Newton will still focus on his work, letting his allies to the talking. They speak true, the organics here have little interest in being pawns for machines.
the human woman was once again screaming at her, she had every single person in this room a favour taking it out, wasn't her fault they didn't how dangerous that droid was even without a weapon.
she started to laugh when the woman mentioned getting answers from the droid "Answers? you thought you were going to get answers from that heap of scrap. Do you know what kind of droid that is? that is an IG bounty hunting droid, they all come equipped with self-destruction which they use to avoid capture, and what did you think it was going to do hmm? surround and cornered by hostile targets, I saved your damned life, your welcome!" she informed the other woman, defending her action.
she could tell the woman was about to start arguing with her when a robotic voice from down the hall spoke. raising her rifle at the droid prepared to shoot it until she noticed its hands were up, she removed her finger from her trigger but still had the rifle pointed at it.
When X3R confirmed IG0R was going to betray them Cyrene let out a "told you so." Aimed towards the woman(@Killa Ree) that had just been shouting at her. she would remaining silent after listening to droids response to others probing questions.
X3R remained still while the others focused their gazes and their weapons on it, hands still raised in mock-surrender. Occasionally, a servo would hiss and a bright, shuddering flame would spark out from its joints. The damage to its systems had been severe, but it was nothing that could wholly destroy it. It was built to withstand the eons, and a band of plucky, unwilling adventurers wouldn’t bring it to its doom so swiftly.
As they asked their questions, it began to regard them one-by-one, studying their expressions and their mannerisms in their brief interactions together in order to establish some degree of neuro-cognitive behavioral framework for the party. It was constantly assessing and analyzing its situation, even in periods of relative “peace.”
X3R regarded to woman who spoke to it first with impassive eyes. ”It is unknown the full capabilities of this threat,” it explained, unhelpfully, ”But it is something far more pressing than the matter of Hutt masters seeking dominance over this facility. It seeks access to the General, and with it, all droids within the facility. Beyond that, all machine life on the planet. And more.”
It knew the explanation would provide little in the way of reassurance, but continued to speak anyways. ”General Z1MM is the central command computer and master of this facility. One of many of our creator’s exceptional achievements for conquering the galaxy by force. Beyond this door lies that which your IG-0R sought, as well as the would-be trophy of the Hutts. Destroying the code-carrier before it could access the central computer is... A good thing.”
It slowly lowered its hands, hoping the moment of cordial conversation and lack of violence would key the others in that X3R was not here for hostilities.
”As we speak, the dataplague will be spreading to the other machine hosts you had destroyed or deactivated. We are in a tactically-disadvantageous position. If you assist the Hutts in their goals, you will surely all be killed and forgotten, while the dataplague is unleashed into the galaxy.”
X3R hesitated for a few moments, then spoke once more.
”Assist the General and I in halting the spread of the dataplague. You were dragged here against your will, but now you have become obstacles in the path of a much more grave threat.”
Newton did indeed the computer spike off of the life-less chassis and power to the console is powered up and ready to go. Newton sighed as he heard the cat woman talking. "Euraka" he muttered with a quiet voice. Between her failing to cover the whole rearguard of the team earlier and shooting the IG before it was even necessary. Even she knows how implusive and salty she is even if she would deny it. "Shut up, slaver." he did not hesitate. "Rational-minded people will talk" Newton didn't hide his distain for the slaver.
Newton would look upon the droid attempting to tell it's side of the story and supposedly there is a greater threat and should supposedly help them - the machines who have been shooting at them this whole time - instead of the machines that threatened to shot them. Newton wouldn't be quick to dismiss what the droid said. There could be some truth to it, maybe the spike Newton does have is a dataplague. Maybe or maybe not. Now that Newton was thinking about, why not shutdown the central computer rather than upload a code to it. And no one will benefit from this in case both sides are the 'evil' here.
Newton would then speak the droid "You machines have been kill us from when we got here, no attempt at communication." Sure IG probably would have shut-down any attempts at communication via the droids, but surely things like intercoms or messages via terminals could have been done. "Forgive us for if we don't buy what you are saying immediately."
"My colleagues and I, and her" giving a brief stare to the catwoman "here don't seem to be fans of being pawns for droids. Do you have any evidence on why we should believe you?" Newton asked for assurances. "Why shouldn't we just, shutdown the main computer?" he posed this question to everyone.
"How are you wanting us to assist you halting the dataplague?" Newton would ask. If they provide enough evidence or the group consensus, they perhaps they can assist them.
This woman literally was clueless. Perhaps the droid could have simply activated its' self-destruct core, and so what? Was she supposed to get down on her knees and be thankful someone as useless as this kriff-for-brains talking kitty actually did something rather than sit there quaking in her boots? Her jaw tightened, as did the grip on her pistol. The woman was within range. She should save the group the hassle and just end her here and now. However, there was the matter of the droid.
Until the woman spoke up smugly again.
Told you so.
Her shoulders stiffened. Rage pulsed up deep in her chest, and she bared her teeth, unseen, in her helmet.
A flat tone buzzed from her helmet, the tone soft.
She could easily get gunned down by the rest of the group, but by this point, she hardly cared. The woman had been useless in almost every engagement, had the kriffing audacity to yell at others when they were escaping X3R the last time, and now had the karking nerve to stand there smugly as though she deserved all the praise for doing kark-all. And now she was focusing on the other droid.
Something like that was cancer in the galaxy.
Giving a small, sudden shift towards the cat lady, she instead let out a neat trio of shots, twice to the gut where her armor seemed to end at her torso and once in the head, without warning, and without a word. Let the rest of them gun her down, she didn't karking care at that point. The other woman was just going to slow them down by this point. And if she persisted, or even tried shooting at her in retaliation, she wouldn't stand down, but plug into her until she stopped moving.
She was tired of this woman and her high-handed attitude already. Karking slavers.
>Cyrene's eyes narrowed and glanced at the woman has her digitise voice spoke out, seeing her turn towards, she moved her rifle not to shoot her but to swing the barrel into her hands hoping to knock the blaster out of them but at very least disrupt her aim but just as she managed to do that, the human let out her first shot while other two missed as her rifle crashed into her hands.
the first shot struck her armour above the woman's intended point, Cyrene let out a cry of pain as she dropped her rifle, clattering to the floor, as she fell to one knee as a hand went to clutch her wound, leaning on the wall beside her as she breathed heavily between gritted teeth.
Vizim snickered slightly at Suit's comment as the man continued to work. True to his word, Vizim kept himself between the droid and the man in the suit, not because of his word, but because Vizim had identified the man as the most likely route for the Sith to make it out of this alive and potentially with an advantage.
The droid talked about a dataplague and the plans of the Hutts, but frankly, Vizim didn't trust him either. It had tried to kill him a few moments ago. If Vizim couldn't defeat someone in combat - which this droid apparently couldn't - he wouldn't have been above lying to his targets. Deception was a powerful tool.
As he was considering this, a blaster shot rang out. Or several blaster shots. Vizim assumed it was his partners firing at the droid and his saber lit smoothly as he took a defensive step back. But no bolt traveled to the droid. His head snapped to the side and he saw one of the others gunning down the slaver woman.
Kriff, these people are unstable, he thought to himself. And this was from someone who worked with Sith all the time.
Can we override and take control of the droid forces for ourselves from here? he turned quickly and quietly to ask Suit (@The Good Doctor), hoping none of the others - especially the droid who he was still watching - would hear. He realized a moment later that the other man might be a bit more perturbed by allies turning on each other than Vizim was. This was simply a way of life, and Vizim was starting to see an opportunity arise. One he'd happily split with Suit if need be.
As the blaster shot rang out, X3R moved quickly, arms swinging up to bear weapons on Allegra. The antique droid's beam tubes hummed ominously as they powered up.
"That action is counter-productive at this time, organic." X3R intoned, swiveling his cranial turret toward the injured female. "I suggest we all commit no further violence toward one-another until this situation has been satisfactorily resolved."
X3R paused for a beat, before turning his attention toward Vizim.
"If taking over the system from this location were feasible, I would suggest it myself." He replied to what was supposed to be a private conversation. "This facility is stocked with thousands of Guardian-class war-robots such as myself. As I have discovered, we are invulnerable to modern data interface standards due to our mechanical obsolescence; we would be the ideal candidates to sweep the infected from this facility. However, not only am I hard-wired for loyalty to General Z1MM, the central control computer is the only machine capable of reactivating my brethren en masse."
X3R turned toward Newton.
"It should be noted at this time that I am no longer in direct communication with the central control computer. My remote communications equipment was damaged during our earlier battle. Thus, I cannot speak for my superiors; I can only infer the logical course of action from my own experiences. However, when faced with this data, I believe General Z1MM will come to the same conclusions I have reached."
At that, X3R looked up toward a holocamera surveying the scene. His gaze was locked on the machine for a moment.
"As for why we have now chosen to talk; our perception of the situation has changed, and more, we are out of options.. With your help, the General's command may stand a chance against this digital pathogen. Without it, we are all doomed, in the end."
He turned back toward the group.
"I offer you a guarantee of protection and safe passage at the conclusion of this operation. It is more than the Hutts could offer, I'm sure."
At X3R's words, there was an abrupt whir, and the blast doors opened with a hiss. X3R looked toward the entrance, and than back at the others.
Blasterfire. Not at X3R. At Catwoman. By Blondie. Kark a droid in his nonexistent ass if these dipshit di’kuts weren’t any dumber than they already were. Was Blondie so ego’d out and edged out by dire circumstances that she was willing to plug away into another gun so as to render it useless? Was Catwoman already so useless as to get shot at and lose her functionality as a gun?
That’s all these others were to one Mandalorian, mind her not: guns. Hands. Tools. She was likely the same to them. The Hutts and the droids and the convoluted civil war between each and every one of them had assured that this palace-bunker-place was really just purgatory or limbo or whatever-the-hell before hell itself—quite fitting for the kinds of bastards and bitches suffering the present before time indefinite.
Whatever the hell that meant, Cas may never know, but she did know to train her blaster on the first person who fired one of their own. The muzzle opened its mouth toward Blondie. Her finger squeezed the trigger. Instinct is what propelled the bolt into the wall above Blondie’s blaster. It was a warning shot. If Cas was aiming to shoot the other woman then she would have.
“Please don’t shoot the Zygerrian.” The Mandalorian motioned. “We might need her as bait.”
Hell, if the latter was wounded then she might not be good for much else, but either way Cas wanted and needed every able body as she could get. Right now she didn’t care about name-calling or wounded pride, politics or slavery or what-have-thee. She cared about getting the hell out of here by as many men and women as she could climb on to do so, and she would climb right up there with them.
Mask and Corporate at least had the right idea. X3R...had an idea? He at least sided with the others on how silly and stupid it was to train blasters on one another when everyone needed each other to get out of this pit in one piece, whether they liked one another or not.
“I was guaranteed a bathroom break before my next round of shots.” Cas spoke to X3R while the droid looked up at the camera and then the group. “I ended up in this shithole of—” Then the door opened. She whirled to face the whir, training pistol and sword into whatever this new devrily was, and waited. “You lead, robot.” The Mandalorian guaranteed. “Your predecessor was behind us the first time around. If I’m going to shoot his successor then I’d rather do so without turning around.”
She snarled at the woman trying to knock her blaster out of her hands. Her fingers stung with the impact, but she stood over the injured female, glowering down at this schutta who persisted in being a mewling pestilence; the fact that no one came to the Zyggerian's defense spoke volumes.
At the sight of the woman curled up, she merely scowled.
The droid's words made sense, but..
The next time the woman would prove a problem she wouldn't miss burying a blast in her furry skull. Looking down at the woman, her lips curled in a sneer. She wouldn't even bother telling the woman anything else, she got her point across. Still, that other Mando needed a gun, didn't he? The Catwoman could be used as a meat shield for the other organics. Let her be useful for once.
At the female shooting over her, she scowled at the other human female, already lowering her blaster. "I came to the same conclusion." Yes, it was stupid of her to shoot at the cat, but honestly, letting her run her mouth was just about as brainless as walking unarmed into a Krayt dragon den. Nudging the woman's fallen rifle over to the other Mando (@Arclight), she didn't say another word but stared down at the woman she shot.
If they expected her to feel remorse, the only remorse she felt was that her headshot missed. Gripping her blaster in stinging fingers, she jerked her head at the open door.
There would be no arguing on this. The woman wasn't dead; she could still walk. Let her walk with the droid. Two birds with one stone. Sure, she looked like an ass to the rest of the group, but nobody really came to the cat's defense, so she was right. The likelihood of coming out alive was slim enough as it was, there was no point to be bogged down by useless teammates. And she was gonna work her ass off to prove she was damned useful, if not as a thinker then as a blaster. And that's just what she would be.
Newton had no tears over that slaver woman that got shot. It was sudden, yet not unexpected given her obnoxious attutide and the Newton took the other lady (@Killa Ree) as someone that didn't want to take disrespect from anyone. The results of this clash of personalities was... expected. Still, there would be no tears over the catwoman still even if she wasn't a slaver or of a different species. Looks like they are setting her up to be bait, a good idea.
The Blackwell Executive grinned for a moment at the suggestion of just taking control of the droid themselves. Although he wasn't sure it can be done, but what was supposed to be a private conversation was shut down by the droid in front of them. The dark one might seen his smile, so even if the droid shot the idea down, he is pretty open to trying it if possible anyway. He just let his expression do the reply back to the dark one regarding that. But he didn't verbally say anything else.
Newton would sigh as the last door would open and stow the spike he has on his person in his jacket.